


The Transfer

by tinarebekka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 05:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4126822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinarebekka/pseuds/tinarebekka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a way to enable someone else instead of Harry to vanquish Voldemort. During the preparations Draco gets wind of the plan and, curious that he is, starts to investigate. What he hadn’t foreseen was how the ritual would affect himself. (AU after OOTP, 7th year fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Transfer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for HDS Beltane and first posted on Livejournal on May 9th, 2011.

Finally they had gotten the fire started and the additional light made it easier to see. Where earlier Draco had to mostly rely on his intuition and the one or other _Lumos_ to get around, he could now distinguish where he was going and duck in time before he was running headfirst into a branch. Of course there was a full moon tonight but the clouds were keeping it hidden most of the time.

Unfortunately the additional light also meant that he had to be more careful from now on. The instructions to stay away had been given frequently and in a clear wording, no misunderstanding was possible. But Draco wanted to be here – not just because he was curious, but also because he felt an inner need to witness what was about to happen. After all, when would you get another chance to see one of the teachers of your school bonding with a student? And said bonding was not only tolerated but encouraged by the rest of the staff and the Headmaster himself. It was unheard of as far as Draco was aware.

And so he was creeping through the bushes surrounding the clearing they had chosen for the ritual to take place. His heart was thudding like mad; he swore he could hear it above the crackling sound of the burning wood. Everyone else present was silent as they were working hand in hand to complete the preparations. Well, the wizards were working. There was no way to say what other creatures were milling around without the humans being aware of them.

Draco shuddered. He tried to tell himself it was from the cold but deep down he knew that was a lie. Gulping, he struggled to calm his nerves and returned his attention to the small crowd closest to the fire.

Dumbledore, Snape and Potter held another last minute meeting before the Headmaster would leave them to it. It was impossible to overhear what they were talking about but from everybody’s demeanour Draco could come up with a close enough idea. Potter was nervous and not a little scared, but there was also a hint of interest in him. Admittedly, though, the distance made it hard to be sure. Snape was giving nothing away, but from the way he was glancing at Potter once or twice, there had to be some agitation. 

He wasn’t interested enough in Dumbledore’s feelings to try and interpret them, but he was likely spouting a lot of useless advice. If they didn’t know by now what to do, then everything the old man told them wouldn’t change a thing, Draco thought.

The student body wasn’t informed of what was supposed to happen that night. No one apart from those officially present now had been let in on the plans. It had been sheer luck that Draco overheard Snape and Dumbledore talking the other night a few months ago and what he had heard had piqued his interest. Apparently they had found a possible solution on how to get rid of the Dark Lord. Well, not exactly on how to get rid of him, but how to weaken his defences in order to enable his demise. 

That had been the first he heard of it and it took a lot of patience and cunning on Draco’s part in order to puzzle the pieces together until everything made sense. At the beginning he had thought they meant to do some ritual or other to actively _do something_ to the Dark Lord, but eventually he learned that he wasn’t about to be involved at all. 

No, some genius had come up with the idea that, while Potter was the Chosen One and all that nonsense, he probably wasn’t killer material. He just wouldn’t be able to get the job done. Okay, it was never worded like this, but since Draco had been thinking that way all along, this was the conclusion he came to after going over everything again and again and overanalysing every single word. Satisfied that he’d been correct once more, Draco decided he wanted to know the details of their plan.

The snooping around cost him valuable hours of his lifetime and when it turned out that a book obtained from the Malfoy library had brought the breakthrough, he was honestly shocked and regretted ever having been wanting to know more. 

Yes, he had been raised to follow the Dark Lord and despite his upbringing he wanted nothing more than to be out of danger, which meant in reverse that this mad megalomaniac needed to be destroyed. He didn’t want to build his safety on the fact that he was crawling on his knees in front of a snake-like creature, spending his life on sucking up to him, kissing his robes and doing whatever dirty job he’d have for him. No, thank you very much. 

So Draco had kept himself unavailable by staging an accident, his condition needing constant surveillance by a trained healer or, alternately, a Potions master well versed in healing, when he feared the time had come where his parents would want to present him to the Dark Lord. His father hadn’t been happy when he had visited Draco in the hospital wing the night before the Christmas holidays were about to start, only to be informed that he would have to leave without his son but had gritted his teeth and wished him well.

Of course, back in December, Draco had had no idea that this was to be the last holiday where he would have to ensure his own safety by almost poisoning himself. He was already busy researching what other things could befall one when one was unlucky or determined enough and left on one’s own in a storage room full of potions vials. It was the night before the students were expected back when he overheard the initial conversation between his teacher and the headmaster and a big weight fell from him.

The first giddiness hadn’t lasted long, of course, because when he started to properly think things over, there was a lot that seemed to be a bit fishy. There was, for example, the book. He had overheard that it was from their library at home but what he didn’t know was how it had fallen into the hands of Dumbledore. Theoretically, Snape would have been able to bring it to Hogwarts, but he wouldn’t have been able to get into that part of the library where things like this one were kept and nick it. Only someone with Malfoy blood running through their veins had access to that part; it was better protected than the restricted section of the school library. Not even his mother could enter since she was only a Malfoy by name.

The way he understood it, that only left his father since he and Draco himself were the only living Malfoys. But why would he want to help Dumbledore and his cronies? Draco wasn’t oblivious and of course he was aware that Snape must have changed sides ages ago, but his father? What could have happened for him to help them now? 

What also threw him for a loop was their carelessness to speak where they could be overheard easily by him. Or maybe he was just lucky and they believed him to be fast asleep. No matter from what side he looked at it, it remained incomprehensible.

There were questions above questions and no answers in sight. It was terribly frustrating.

\--

Draco was brought back from his thoughts to the present when he realized that Dumbledore and the other helpers were leaving the location and only Snape and Potter remained in the clearing.

The fire illuminated their faces, displaying their expressions. Snape was still calm and collected, at least as far as Draco could see. Potter’s smile, on the other hand, looked rather strained. Draco wished he could get closer to them in order to get a better look. Yes, the scene was lit well enough to see but the flickering light of the flames made it harder to interpret everything correctly.

If anything, he was impressed that Potter’s demeanour reminded him more of an adult than of the teenager that he was. Yes, they saw themselves as young man, being seventeen and therefore, legally, of age, but if it would have been him in his place, Draco doubted he would have been able to pull it of. He couldn’t claim to know Potter well, but after years of fighting and taunting, they had spoken civilly a few times by now. Well, he had. Potter seemed to have a lack of manners and probably didn’t even know how to act politely around other people.

The first encounter had been back in Christmas holidays when Draco had been in the infirmary and Potter had entered one afternoon with a pained expression, cradling his left arm close to his body. Pomfrey had just left the hospital wing for a quick meeting with Dumbledore and, Draco suspected, a change of scenes, when Potter arrived, and so his call for help went unheard. Spontaneously, and certainly because he was bored, Draco decided to be helpful.

“Pomfrey is not here, she went to see the Headmaster,” he said from his bed situated in a corner. He had insisted on this one since he refused to be seen by all and sundry the moment they entered the room. He didn’t need to be ogled in his hospital gown, thank you very much.

Potter turned around and, upon seeing who had been addressing him, scowled. “Who asked you?”

“Oh, wow, excuse me. Of course it would have been so much more fun to leave you stand here and wait in vain for hours,” Draco drawled, unable to tear his gaze from Potter’s arm. The angle of his wrist seemed to be a bit off and it certainly looked painful. Potter shuffled his feet and stared hard at the floor.

“Did she say when she’ll be back?” Potter asked impatiently, brazenly ignoring Draco’s comment. Draco huffed. So the git was talking to him after all? Too bad, now he didn’t want to talk anymore.

“No, and I didn’t ask. I’m not her secretary.”

“Merlin…” Potter muttered under his breath. “I’ll head to Dumbledore’s office then.”

No need to thank me, you bastard. “Did I ask? No? That’s because I don’t care,” Draco said snidely. Really, who did Potter think he was, treating him that way? 

“Fine.” Potter rolled his eyes. “I was going to ask you to tell Madame Pomfrey I was here and where I’m headed when she’s back; just in case I miss her. But since you’re being your usual nasty self, I won’t bother.” That being said, Potter turned on his heel and stomped out of the room, deliberately slamming the door in his wake.

Hello? He had tried to help him, hadn’t he? He did nothing to deserve this kind of treatment. Thankfully, Potter didn’t come back that day. He must have stumbled across the nurse and gotten his arm healed. Not that Draco was spending a second thinking about him, of course.

\--

A few weeks went by between that day and their next conversation. This time, Draco had been waiting in front of Snape’s office for the man to show up for their potions class that afternoon. When he had noticed Snape’s absence at the head table he figured he might have a chance to see him now and so he had left lunch in the Great Hall early to make certain he was there well before anyone else. There was no need for any of his classmates overhearing the talk he intended to have with his Head of House and seeking him out in the middle of the day looked less suspicious than going to his office during the evening.

Unfortunately it was now nearing the end of lunch break and the Professor had yet to make an appearance. Draco fidgeted nervously though he told himself it was because he was cold, waiting for half an hour in the damp corridor without his cloak. 

He had almost given up on his hopes to get a chance to talk with Snape when the door to the classroom opened unexpectedly. Draco pushed himself off the wall immediately and arranged his face in a less bored and disappointed expression. It wouldn’t do to get caught here like this.

To his utmost surprise it was Potter who exited the room instead of Snape. Since by that time he had heard quite a few things already, seeing Potter wasn’t as suspicious as it might have been otherwise, but he still wondered why they were meeting during lunch, and, taking in Potter’s ruffled demeanour, what had happened in that room.

As it was, Potter reared back as if he’d been smacked upon seeing who was waiting in front of the door.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, shocked. Draco thought it was quite obvious and therefore didn’t bother to answer him.

“Is Professor Snape in his office?” Okay, that question was rather superfluous as well. If he wasn’t there then why would Potter be here?

“Yes,” Potter replied. He, apparently, wasn’t above answering stupid questions. He was probably used to them considering the company he favoured.

Having gotten the expected affirmation, Draco was about to push past him but, instead of letting him pass, Potter stepped in his way, causing Draco to smack into his body. Both boys jumped back immediately, neither of them caring to prolong the physical contact.

“What the--” Draco stopped himself, reminding himself to not lose his composure at that provocation. “Move out of my way!” he demanded in an imperious tone.

“The professor doesn’t want to be disturbed right now,” Potter said, not moving an inch.

“And how do you know?” Draco asked curiously despite himself.

“He told me so.”

“Yes, I can see that. After having been forced to endure your company he’s not up to further disturbances during his break. But I’m no disturbance and I’m sure he’d want to see me if he knew I was there,” Draco said, completely sure of himself. Really, he’d not be up for company too if he had been in Potter’s presence for a prolonged amount of time.

“He wished to be left alone and that includes inconsiderate little snakes like you,” Potter snapped, crossing his arms in front of him. One could almost believe he took up a defensive stance but that, of course, would be utterly insane. Draco shook himself at that thought.

“If I wish to speak with my Head of House it’s none of your business,” Draco said, struggling to keep his tone civil. Snape and he had had words not too long ago and Draco was told that he was expected to keep fights between them at a minimum. As if it was that easy.

“Make an appointment.” Potter didn’t back down.

Draco almost recoiled. Merlin, what was wrong with the Potions master? What had happened that Potter was hell-bent to not let him into this room? Should he get help? Potter didn’t matter, but what if he had done something to Snape? If he was all right he certainly would have come to the door himself by now, rebuking them for making a ruckus and inviting him in before shooing Potter away. It was only natural that he was starting to get worried, Draco assured himself.

He needed to get past Potter.

“Then this is what I’m going to do now,” he said determinately.

“There will be enough time to do so after class,” Potter answered back.

“Gods, what is wrong with you? Are you channelling your late godfather, acting like a guard dog?” Draco flinched at hearing himself say that out loud. That was low. But damn it, he was starting to get desperate here. Yes, Potter was merely a student and Snape was a powerful and very accomplished adult wizard, but things where Potter was concerned were seldom how they should be. It was his right to be concerned and he had nothing to apologize for.

Potter’s face turned an ugly shade of red mixed with violet and he lifted his arm, obviously intending to hit him. Draco could already feel the pain that was soon to come but for some unknown reason he didn’t duck. 

There was no way to know what went through Potter’s head in those moments. Suddenly his arm dropped to his side and, calling Draco a fucking bastard, he quickly reached behind him and pulled the door into its lock; therefore effectively destroying any chances there had been for one of them to enter the room. Only a Professor could open the door to their classroom when the door was locked.

The bang of the door was still ringing in his ears when Draco watched Potter storm down the corridor toward the staircases leading out of the dungeons. Apparently he didn’t plan on attending today’s lesson, because he was gone barely a few minutes when the first of their classmates made their way toward the classroom and soon after that the door opened once again.

\--

Draco nearly botched his potion that day. It really was a close call and he felt he needed to thank Pansy for turning his attention back to his cauldron in the last minute. Reluctantly, he forced himself to finish his brewing before he allowed himself to refocus on Snape.

For the lack of a better description, Snape looked unsettled. There was nothing obviously wrong with him. His complexion was the usual; his clothes weren’t out of disarray. While he talked even less then usual, his tone was carrying the normal amount of acid and the insults toward the Gryffindors came promptly and contained the familiar amount of venom, not more. Even his eyes didn’t look troubled and yet, as far as Draco was concerned, it was obvious that something just wasn’t right.

Remembering back to this day unnerved him for weeks.

Convinced that Potter did something to Snape, Draco dedicated some of his free time (time that wasn’t spent in the shadows trailing behind Snape, Dumbledore and every other Hogwarts teacher who acted suspiciously) to follow Potter. 

Three more times he caught him meeting with the Potions master but every time they ended up in Snape’s office and even Draco knew his life would be forfeit if he dared enter that room without an invitation. And he suspected he would get caught the instant he set one toe over the threshold – Snape was paranoid like that, having wards all over the place.

Eventually, Draco had to accept that he’d not learn anything new by continuing to stalk Potter and so he regrouped his efforts. He was only going to follow that git if he should happen to do something suspicious. If not, he would stop searching for clues. He just didn’t have the time to watch him, too.

Therefore Draco was surprised when he literally stumbled across the four-eyed idiot when he was coming back from a walk along the lake late one night. Technically, he should have been in his common room about an hour ago, but he couldn’t have been arsed to return to the castle in time. He had so many little details to sort in his head and he had learned long ago that he best did this in solitude, hence the walk.

Anyway, it being that late in the evening, he hadn’t expected coming across anyone when he hurried through the dark halls of the dungeons. The light of the torches wasn’t sufficient to light every nook and cranny and Draco couldn’t suppress a squeak when his foot connected with something and he almost lost his footing.

Instinctively reaching for the nearest wall to steady himself saved Draco from crashing face first onto the floor. Once he had regained his balance, Draco’s gaze travelled downwards and bingo! _Someone_ was sitting on the ground, pressed into a dark corner with only their legs sticking out. Seriously, if one wanted to hide one should ensure that everything, including the limbs, were well hidden. 

“Potter, is there a reason why you’re here, endangering people’s safety by making them stumble and fall and positively break their necks?”

Really, anyone else would not have been able to identify him by the look of his shoes and trousers, but Draco had always been more perceptive than the rest. And finding that loser was a piece of cake, Draco didn’t even have to look.

“It’s after curfew, kindly remove yourself,” was all Potter had to say. He didn’t dare to say more since his voice sounded like he had a bad cold. Ugh, spreading germs. Draco winced.

“Impressive. You’ve honed your vocabulary,” Draco commended, hoping it sounded sincere even though it was anything but. “I do hope you didn’t get into all the trouble for my sake.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“And here we are, back in the gutter. One short sentence is all you need to destroy my belief in you, Potter. That is so sad,” Draco gibed. Riling Potter was so much fun. And, if he was honest, he had been looking for a distraction tonight. Trying to wrap his head around his father’s motives was giving him a headache; he deserved a little stress relief.

“Shut up and crawl back into the snake’s den where you belong,” Potter snapped. Or at least Draco was sure that this was what he had been trying to do. It sounded kind of whiny instead.

“Snakes don’t crawl, they slither,” he corrected the other boy. 

Potter groaned. A few moments neither of them was making a sound. 

“Bugger off.”

“Hmm,” Draco hummed. “I think you suggested something like this already. Thank you. I’m afraid I must decline. – So, what are you doing here? If you got lost, I’ll be happy to help you back on the correct way toward Gryffindor Tower.”

It was impossible to make out Potter’s reply.

“And now you’re going to pull your head out of your arse and say that again. Maybe then I’m going to be able to understand more than a few random syllables.”

“Malfoy, go away! Either do that or drop dead for all I care. Whatever you do, leave me alone or I’m going to make sure that you stop bothering the hell out of me!” Potter threatened, almost yelling now. But why was his voice so unsteady? It was…wobbling? Even a freak like him would have been through his puberty vocal change by now, wouldn’t he?

“Sorry,” Draco apologized. “None of the options are acceptable.”

He had no idea why he just couldn’t let it go. It was childish, he knew that, but it was also tremendously satisfying to get the kind of response Potter usually gave. And now he had a goal: needling Potter long enough to lure him out of his hiding place. Oh, and of course avoid getting caught by a teacher. Draco was afraid Snape wouldn’t be pleased if he found him here. Whether it was because he was outside of the common room or because of the company he was keeping, he didn’t feel up for the consequences that would follow.

Potter hit his head against the wall. Once. Twice.

“Are you sure you’ve got enough brain cells left to kill them with no consideration?”

He didn’t get a direct reply but when Potter spoke again, he sounded more than annoyed. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard that question before, but were you already born as an arsehole? Or did you have to put in some work to get there?”

“It comes naturally,” Draco responded instinctively, furrowing his brow. What was he talking about? Just because Draco disliked him (and a few other people), didn’t mean that he himself was generally disliked. Opposing Potter was a duty. Someone had to do it after all.

Aside from being a nuisance, Potter was given far too much leeway from the Headmaster and the majority of the teachers. With no one to put him in his place, he would get even more arrogant every day. It was an obligation, but Draco felt that someone had to sacrifice themselves. On the other hand, one had to say that, unlike most other losers in this school, he made a great sparring partner for Draco’s sharp tongue.

And again, Potter didn’t disappoint. 

“It’s a hereditary thing, yes? I thought so.”

Draco huffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Certainly that half-blood didn’t try to insult his parentage.

“Exactly what I said,” Potter gave back, ignoring the threatening undertone in Draco’s voice. “It’s no wonder you turned out the way you did.”

That was the moment Draco had had enough. At least Potter could have the decency to show he face, he thought, and so he kneeled on the floor to give himself more leverage, reached for the foot that had made him stumble and pulled with all his might.

Potter didn’t give in that easy, though. He struggled and kicked at Draco with his free leg, but in the end he had to accept Draco’s superiority. Not that he did it with dignity, of course. If they weren’t in the middle of a corridor after curfew, he certainly would have yelled his head off.

As it was, he turned away from Draco the moment his face was lit enough for Draco to see his expression. At first, he thought Potter was just being difficult and asked, “Are you a nocturnal creature, Potter, because you’re shying away from the light?” But then he took in the drooped shoulders and his conscience kicked in.

“Potter?”

Merlin, he looked like he was about to cry. Suddenly, Draco had a strong urge to flee. He wouldn’t know what to do with a bawling Potter at his hands.

He didn’t get a verbal response. Instead, Potter jerked his leg away from Draco’s touch and got up. Once he stood he was anything but steady on his feet, but Draco was no one’s mother and so he left him be. After all he was old enough.

Even if he was on the verge of tears and looked small and very much in need of protection.

Well, it didn’t come to that. Before he had the chance to say anything else, Potter was gone. One moment he’d been there in front of him and, a blink of an eye later, he had disappeared into thin air.

Draco’s eyes darted from their little corner to the end of the corridor and back. How was that possible? Had Potter hexed him? But he didn’t feel woozy or otherwise impaired. Nothing indicated that he had been hit with a spell. Mystified, Draco returned to his common room, forcing down images of a helpless Potter and himself playing his knight in shining armour. Something must have happened to him without his knowledge for he clearly wasn’t able to think straight anymore.

\--

Snape and Potter were standing face to face now, closer than Draco had ever seen them before. While he never had a crush on Snape, he could freely admit that he was an imposing figure. And Potter, well, thinking off Potter was something that had to be avoided at all costs. But they did look rather interesting together, Draco mused, with their dark hair, their haunting eyes; quite similar yet so very different. Not that he could see them from the distance, but he knew what he was talking about.

Snape’s eyes he had known for most of his life. Draco hadn’t seen him often before he came to Hogwarts but he had known who he was and that he was going to be his Potions Professor. And since he had been a small child he had wondered how anyone could have eyes that dark. For a while he had even believed that they entirely consisted of pupils with no room left for an iris around them. That would also explain why almost nothing escaped the man’s attention.

Now he knew that he had been wrong, of course, but the fact remained that Snape appeared to see more than anyone else – if he wanted to. He was also bedevilled with enough prejudices to last five more people. If anyone doubted this, they just had to look at how Snape had been treating Potter during the last years and they’d have to admit that he was very consistent in expressing his hate. And had he just defended Potter?

Being around Snape was safe as long as one shared his opinions. If one happened to think differently, one either suffered his wrath or got betrayed. Thankfully, people (creatures) like the Dark Lord were so used to being obeyed that Snape had it easier to play a part. Draco’s father was the same way. He would never be able to wrap his mind around the fact that Snape didn’t share his views. Or would he?

Draco shook his head at that thought. Here he was, in the middle of the night in the middle of a bloody forest, about to watch two people having sex. Yes, because that’s what they were about to do. Potter and Snape would shag in that clearing and afterwards safe the world. If that didn’t sound corny, Draco didn’t know what did.

Potter…

Potter also had that underlying, well hidden poise of someone having been hurt too often. That was what he and Snape had in common. And eventually there was the fact that both of them tended to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others due to some misguided sense of guilt. Draco didn’t know what could have triggered that feeling in Snape, but Potter obviously thought it was his duty to help anyone else since a lot of people had died in order to keep him alive. One had to be a Gryffindor to be able to comprehend that way of thinking.

Other than noting the obvious, thinking about Potter had started to bother him lately. Draco was used to making degrading comments about him and blaming him for everything bad that happened but finding himself strangely attracted to him was so not acceptable. So instead of giving himself another headache, his pushed all thoughts aside and contented himself with watching the two males in the clearing.

During the last few minutes neither of them had made a move. They were merely standing there, face to face, and did nothing. Draco wanted to come out of his hiding place and help them get on with it, but sadly that wasn’t an option. If either of them saw him, they’d hex him into next week and then kick him hard enough to catapult him back into the castle or even home to Wiltshire.

No, he wouldn’t take the risk. His butt was far too pretty for such rough handling.

Finally at least Snape seemed to get out of his stupor and reached for Potter with both hands, drawing him into his arms. Gods, to see those two embrace…

Now Potter wrapped his arms around Snape and then they remained like this for a few moments. Draco wished he could see their expressions. There must have been a lot of changes between them to make Snape act like he cared for Potter and Draco couldn’t help but be a little jealous. Not of Potter, mind you. He had no sexual interest in Snape and in his eyes the man wasn’t good as a father figure. But he got to hug Potter and that was something Draco would like to do very much. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud.

Stepping away from each other, Potter and Snape hesitated a few moments but eventually they went to a blanket someone had spread for them on the ground. Well, it was more like a pile of blankets from what it looked like. If anything, it was soft enough to keep them comfortable during the upcoming activities, Draco thought. If his eyes didn’t betray him, everything else they would need was also arranged neatly beside the makeshift bed. 

Lowering himself to the ground, Draco tried to find a position in which he’d be able to endure the next hour or so. There was no telling how long they would take and he’d be damned if he left here before them. Shifting around a bit, Draco then winced, his head snapping toward the two males in the clearing. He stared at them for a few heartbeats, not daring to blink, until he was convinced that they hadn’t heard anything. That bloody twig almost gave him away by breaking under his left hand. He scowled and carefully put it aside.

A quick _Silencio_ would make his life that much easier but Draco didn’t dare use magic. Yes, Potter and Snape were now surrounded by runes and whatever else Dumbledore and the others had deemed necessary, but he didn’t want to be responsible if something went wrong after all.

And so Draco rested his back against a tree and forced himself to relax. A glance toward the fire told him that his two companions were about to do the same. Well, they also lost a bit of their clothing which was something he wouldn’t copy out here in the forest. But he would be here for quite a while yet and a cramp was the last thing he needed. 

To his utmost disappointment they didn’t shed all their clothes at once as he had expected them to. No, Potter kept his trousers and a shirt on; Snape was a bit bolder as he remained in only his trousers. Or maybe he just wished everything was over already.

But then he was turning toward Potter and simultaneously toward him and Draco was taken aback by the look in his eyes. Gods, Snape wanted this. Snape wanted Potter. Who would have thought that he was such a pervert?

But he wasn’t, was he? Potter was legally an adult and one did have to be blind not to see that he had grown up quite nicely. 

And of course Draco didn’t waste a second of his time thinking whether he would count as pervert since he was the one hidden behind some bushes, waiting with bated breath for the two men to get started already. And of course it wasn’t the prospect of watching them having sex that excited him. No, he was only interested in witnessing the transfer of magic. But that wouldn’t take place for quite a while yet. On the contrary, with the speed they were progressing it was debateable if they would get to that point tonight or if they were aiming at Beltane next year. No wonder he was starting to get anxious.

Snape extended one slightly too thin arm and reached for Potter, cupping his cheek. His lips were moving and Draco wished he could hear what the man was saying to Potter. Then he stopped speaking for a moment before he continued. Potter must have said something in response and, judging Snape’s expression, it must have been something fairly intelligent. 

Astonished and not believing his eyes, Draco stared harder at his Head of House. He, Snape was smiling. _Smiling_! And he was not only smiling, he was smiling at Potter due to something he said. 

He never smiled. If anything, he smirked (more or less cruelly), but smiling? That was unheard of.

And once again Draco caught himself being jealous. Not of Potter because Snape was smiling at him. Well, he wouldn’t mind if that man turned to him wearing a genuinely friendly expression, but that was not it. No. Snape was allowed to smile at Potter and didn’t get rebuked for it. If Draco dared to smile at Potter, he would get accused for contriving a nasty plan, because despite their various conversations since Christmas holidays, Potter didn’t seem to trust him. 

That was a shame, really. 

What made it worse was that Draco wanted to be trusted by Potter. Not that he would ever say that out loud to anyone. If anything, he’d deny it if anyone dared to confront him about it.

Potter stepped closer now and again wrapped his arms around the older man. This time Snape not only returned the embrace but started to caress Potter’s back with one hand, holding him close to his body with the other one. Not long after, his hand disappeared between their bodies and Draco held his breath.

Was Snape going straight for the main prize? 

Soon he was peeling the shirt of Potter’s shoulders and revealed a very nice, lean body. It seemed like Potter was hiding quite a few muscles under his clothes, for what he saw now came pretty close to Draco’s fantasies. 

Nonetheless he almost huffed in annoyance. Just when he had been thinking things were about to heat up considerably, everything they did was lose one more article of clothing. But Potter had always been one to procrastinate, hadn’t he? Well, either that or he was running head first into chaos. But sadly that didn’t seem to be the case now.

The last time Draco had been thinking that Potter really was one of the world’s biggest procrastinators had been just one week ago.

\--

They had been in the library – they being Potter and his henchmen – and Draco had happened to sit at a table close by. Granger had asked him what was wrong with him lately and why he wasn’t paying attention to anything anymore. She also mentioned repeated meetings with Dumbledore and that was what made Draco listen up. Apparently the Weasel and his know-it-all girlfriend were completely out of the loop. No wonder she was demanding answers.

Since Draco still had had no clear idea what was about to happen on Beltane, besides that something spectacular was in its last planning stage and that it involved Potter and Snape, he was most interested in Potter’s explanation. Surely he wanted his friends to know what was going to happen.

“I’m fine, Hermione, just a bit tired. As you know, Dumbledore has been monopolizing much of my free time lately but that’s about to change soon and then I’m going to focus on classes,” Potter promised.

“But Harry, it’s been going on for ages and you never tell us anything,” the Weasel chimed in, his whiny tone grating on Draco’s nerves. 

With both their gazes focused on Potter and Potter staring at the table top, Draco used the opportunity and crept closer, pretending to study the books in the shelf closest to their table.

“Like I said, it’s been a bit much lately but it’s going to get better soon,” Potter repeated sharply.

“Harry, we’re not blaming you for your crazy schedule,” Granger explained. “We’re concerned. Can you understand that?”

Potter muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like he wasn’t able to understand anything because he was clearly stupid, but he didn’t repeat it out loud when the Weasel asked. Instead he said, “Yes, and you’re the best friends anyone could have, but there’s nothing I can tell you, I’m sorry.”

That boy was such a liar, Draco thought. Nothing he could tell them, sure! He just opted to keep everything to himself and if he were one of his friends, he’d be frustrated, too. It must be hard being lied to like this. And even they weren’t stupid enough to believe him.

“Did Dumbledore forbid you to inform us?” Granger wanted to know and Draco commended himself. Even if he didn’t like her he’d correctly foreseen her reaction.

“Or maybe it’s just training,” the Weasel guessed. Right. So he was stupid enough to believe him. That was kind of disappointing to Draco since he had begun to force himself to think higher of Potter’s sidekicks. He didn’t always succeed but he gave it his best effort. If he ever wanted to have something like an amicable relationship with Potter, treating his friends better would be mandatory. So Draco had decided to practice.

Back to Potter. There he was, alone with his so-called best friends and unable to tell the truth. None of them had noticed Draco so far so his presence couldn’t be an issue. And yet Potter said nothing although it was obvious to anyone who took a closer look at him that he was this close to a breakdown.

Well, seeing that the little episode in the library had been long ago and nothing of that sort happened, Draco had to admit that he had been wrong in this regard. But he was absolutely right in calling Potter a procrastinator. It had been something they were to learn about eventually anyways and he would have been able to tell them the truth but instead took the easy way out. He had lied to them in order to safe himself the trouble to explain everything to them. And he was supposed to be a Gryffindor? Laughable, that’s what it was, Draco told himself.

\--

Just like Draco had suspected all along, now that there was no other way but to go ahead, Potter opened his trousers and let them fall down past his narrow hips. Of course it was unintentional but by doing that he gave Draco a great view of his butt. Hmm, lovely, he thought before he almost choked on his own saliva on his next breath. No pants?! 

Draco blinked. Apparently someone’s been more ready than it looked like on the outside. Potter was really hard to assess. And the longer Draco watched him the more curious he got. And came to the realization that he might have been wrong in the past where Potter was concerned. Of course, that was his head talking. Other parts of him were had long since reached a point where they looked at Potter in a totally different light and yearned to see and hear more of him.

The fire was now burning even brighter than a few minutes ago. Even the last pieces of wood had caught on fire and the clearing was well lit. In fact, it was almost too well lit for Draco’s taste. He looked down himself and was grateful that he had opted to completely dress in black and hide his white blond hair beneath the hood of his cloak. Otherwise they would have detected him by now.

Strong hands were running down Potter’s backside, kneading the globes of his butt. Draco’s hands unconsciously mimicked the movements of Snape’s, for a moment he thought he could feel Potter’s skin under his fingers.

While he was being caressed Potter wasn’t idle and soon after Snape’s trousers and undergarments joined the rest of their clothes on the ground, leaving both men naked. Draco swallowed. Firelight was certainly complimentary on the naked skin but somehow he doubted that this was all he was reacting to.

Snape’s lips moved and then both of them sank down onto the blankets, somehow managing to stay wrapped around each other on the way. Potter lay down on his back, Snape draped himself over him, not bothering to balance himself on his elbows, resting most of his weight on the young man’s body. Potter didn’t seem to mind if one counted the way he was arching up into him the moment their lower body parts came into contact.

Draco wrung his hands. He wanted to get closer so very much. Ignoring his own body for now, he focused on the bodies in front of the fire, lest he missed anything otherwise.

They weren’t kissing but staring into each other’s eyes instead. It wasn’t what Draco had expected to see at the point in time, but it was hot somehow. It spoke of a certain intimacy between them, didn’t it? Potter had intertwined his legs with Snape’s and was holding him close while the older man thrust his hips gently against Potter’s body, rubbing their arousals together. Was that a moan that he had heard over the crackling sound of the fire? 

Draco shivered.

As if on command Potter arched his head back and this time Draco was sure he had heard correctly. 

Snape followed Potter’s movement and adjusted his hold on the slim body. They resumed their humping and Potter’s face started to glisten with a light sheen of sweat. Draco thought that was odd since it wasn’t a particularly warm night. Well, it looked like he was the only one being cold.

Thankfully his hearing had improved during the last minutes in the relative quietness of the forest. Draco could hear them talking again even though they were too far away to make out what they were saying. Potter sounded anxious while Snape was determined but he still took the time to reassure him.

Potter nodded reluctantly and reached for one of the pots being placed beside their makeshift bed.

Eyes growing wide as saucers, Draco didn’t dare to blink. Any second now he’d witness Potter prepare himself to get fucked. Or maybe Snape would do it for him? Draco’s fingers were itching to snatch that pot out of his hands and help him out.

Then something really unexpected happened. Draco had assumed Snape would shift and make room for Potter to either apply the lubrication himself or do it for him. What did happen instead was that Potter opened the pot, liberally coated his fingers with the slick substance and reached for Snape’s behind.

Draco goggled. Never had anyone mentioned that Potter would fuck Snape! But it was true. Watching Potter’s hand disappear between Snape’s cheeks, Draco gulped. To his utter horror he felt himself get hard. Instead of fantasizing of fucking Potter was he now dreaming of getting fucked by Potter? From the beginning he had wanted to be in Snape’s place and now that their positions were clearly contrary to what he had believed, he still wanted to be in Snape’s place. Merlin! That was a shocking discovery. He had always been on top when it came to sexual intercourse and had always liked it that way. And now it seemed that for Potter he would be willing to make an exception.

Shifting impatiently, Draco tried to lessen the pressure in his trousers without touching himself. He couldn’t afford the distraction and the attention the tiniest movement and sound might get him.

Snape didn’t make a sound but Draco could see him trembling. He could imagine only too well where Potter’s fingers were and what they currently did. The trembling increased, meaning one more finger was inserted. Gods! Why hadn’t he remained standing, Draco cursed himself. That would have given him a wonderful view on what he knew was taking place.

Potter said something, a warning undertone in his voice, and then Snape’s head jerked up as he moaned.

Nothing could calm Draco’s jittery nerves now. No bars were surrounding him but he still felt like a caged animal. He so wanted to rush over toward the fire and replace either of them. Yes. Even taking Potter’s place and making Snape moan sounded appealing right now. For someone being used to porn magazines, he was terribly aroused by the mere prospect of watching two people having sex. Hell, he had walked in on several of his housemates wanking or having sex and nothing had ever affected him like that. Resignedly, Draco shoved his hand down his trousers and prayed to the Gods that he wouldn’t get caught.

Draco had just wrapped his mind around the notion of Potter either thrusting into Snape from behind or looming over him when they surprised him once again. But what a lovely surprise it was. So Potter wasn’t the dominant part after all? His cock gave a happy twitch at that discovery.

By the fire Snape had raised himself and was now kneeling, one leg on either side of Potter. Then he lowered himself until Potter’s cock, supported in an upright position by his owner’s hand, nudged his entrance. Once again they did the staring-into-each-other’s-eyes thingy and then eventually, after some wordless communication, Snape went down another inch, taking the head of Potter’s cock inside. He paused shortly before lowering himself the rest of the distance in one go, his buttocks slapping against Potter’s hips. Potter cried out because of the tightness suddenly surrounding him.

Eerie black eyes went wide and Snape’s mouth opened into a soundless groan. 

Potter reached out instantly, trying to push him off again, but Snape slapped the hands away and shook his head furiously until Potter gave in and let him be.

Snape remained still for a little while, taking a few deep breaths, before he started to move. Like the initial penetration, he wasn’t exactly gentle about it. His face was contorted from the pain but it didn’t take long until his expression gradually relaxed and each thrust seemed to be easier on him. 

When the in and out had been going on smoothly for a few minutes, Potter started to join in. He had been lying quite rigid, keeping himself perfectly motionless and letting Snape have his way. Now he bent his knees, planting his feet firmly on the blankets to get some leverage, and pushed back when Snape sank down onto his erection.

Allowing himself to fall forward, Snape braced himself with both hands on Potter’s shoulders. Instantly, Potter’s hands went to his arse, helping him lift his hips up and down. Snape’s head fell forward, making his face disappear behind a curtain of black hair. 

Draco didn’t appreciate it; the look on Snape’s face as he fucked himself on Potter had provided a lot of stimulation. But the sound of skin slapping against skin was a huge turn-on, too, and Potter revelled in the fact that they were alone, considering the throaty moans his made. He was certainly enjoying what they did, the initial insecurity long forgotten.

His cock, at least, didn’t complain. Draco felt himself swell even more, his balls already tightening. He had to get out of the confinement of his clothes or he would burst, Draco thought. He wriggled out of his trousers, using only his free hand to push them down. His right one was busy and stopping its tugging motion was unthinkable. Hopefully the men by the fire were too caught up in their own pastime in order to pay much attention to their surroundings. 

Keeping his gaze fixed on them, Draco was quite certain that he was still undetected, believing to have imagined the slight pause in Snape’s movements.

Now that he was no longer constricted in his movement, Draco started to pull frantically on himself, matching the couple’s erratic thrusts. So close… Looking down, he had to squint to make out his cock in the half-light. 

He imagined himself in his room with Potter. He’d be sprawled in his favourite armchair which was conveniently situated in front of the large mirror. Potter was sitting on his lap, his back resting against Draco’s chest and his legs hooked over Draco’s. By spreading his own legs he was effectively spreading Potter’s and, looking past the mop of black hair, he was treated with a perfect view of himself thrusting into Potter again and again. 

Potter would arch his back, stretch and wrap his arms around Draco while twisting his head to steal a breathless kiss. Draco would feel him clench harder around him and read the signs correctly, reaching for Potter’s cock to help him fall over the edge.

Someone cried out, instantly followed by loud moaning. Panting harshly, Draco snapped out of his fantasy just as he was emptying himself all over his hand and shirt. His eyes returned to the couple on the blanket, surrounded by a strange glow, the second he fully came back to himself and remembered where he was and then his heart stood still.

His gaze was met dead-on by Snape.

He had been caught.

Snape started to curse fluently, and for someone who prided himself on his composure like he did, that was scary. Potter craned his neck and followed Snape’s finger with his eyes until his gaze landed on Draco. He stammered something in question, his tone too low for Draco to understand, and Snape’s expression turned murderous. 

“Malfoy, you imbecile, do you have an inkling what the hell you got your stupid self into?!” he roared.

Unfortunately, Draco had no idea what to say. He was petrified with horror and all his mind would come up with was the question how in Merlin’s name they could make him out in the dark, being clad in black.

While he had tried to reason, Snape and Potter must have uncoupled and hastily thrown over some clothes. Before he could even pull his cloak around him to cover himself, Snape had been stalking toward him with long, quick strides, grabbed him by his collar and hauled him upright. Behind him Potter’s head appeared.

“Malfoy! What the fuck are you doing here?” Potter repeated Snape’s sentiment and for the first time wasn’t rebuked for his language.

“I…” Draco paused. It was no use trying to say anything when his mind was still drawing a blank. Refusing to meet their gazes, his eyes were drawn to the glowing stones lying on the ground close to where he’d been sitting moments ago.

Wait. Glowing stones?

Snape shook him, making his limbs flail like the ones of a rag doll. “Answer me!”

“Why are you in the forest tonight? It’s not like you should be here any other day, but why tonight of all nights?” Potter tried again, impatiently, his sweaty skin accentuating the vein that throbbed at his temple.

“I…”

“You already said that. Come to the significant part,” Snape snapped, tightening his grip.

Gods, what was he supposed to say, Draco asked himself. Snape would kill him if he learned that Draco had been following him for months. And he’d also kill him if he lied because he could always sense it if he was being lied to. So claiming to accidentally having stumbled across them during a midnight stroll wasn’t an option – not that he wouldn’t then get punished most strictly anyways for breaking about a dozen school rules.

He was so fucked, Draco thought, wanting to curl into a ball and hide. 

Now Potter had detected the stones and motioned toward them, his face drained of all colour. 

“Severus… I believe I’ve just found some more rune stones…” he said feebly.

“What?” Snape released Draco instantly and turned to Potter. Without someone to hold him upright though, Draco’s legs buckled under his weight and his fell to the ground, landing in a graceless heap. No one paid any attention to him.

“Here. They’re scattered all over the place.”

Snape got down on his knees and scrutinized them. “Hell and damnation…”

“Hmm?” Potter asked, breathless, before he joined Snape on the ground.

“They’re not scattered. Or maybe they were, but look at them now. There’s an order behind this. They form a circle,” he said gravely.

Potter gulped. “A circle?”

“Yes.” Snape sighed. “And considering the way the leaves are smashed within, I hazard a guess and say this has been Mr Malfoy’s observation point.”

“You mean he was within that circle? Now?” Potter almost screamed the last word, panic lacing his voice.

Draco didn’t dare say a word. He was sure they’d kill him if he disturbed them now. But what missing rune stones were they talking about? Runes were painted on the ground or wherever you needed them. Why use stones? And wasn’t that something one kept safe and made sure not to misplace it?

“I’m afraid so, yes,” Snape affirmed and turned to Draco, the temperature of his voice dropping notably when he addressed him. “You’ve got no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. I know I said this before but now that we know that you’ve been sitting in this cursed circle…” Snape trailed off, shaking his head.

What was it with those stones? Yes, he’d seen the glow surrounding the blanket earlier. And he had surmised that this glow had been activated by the joining of Potter and Snape and the fact that it was Beltane tonight and a lot of charms and spells. So far so good. Apparently the stones had been glowing and still did to a lesser extend. But what did that means for the ones that had been surrounding him?

“We won’t touch them,” Snape decided. “We leave everything exactly as it is and hopefully Professor Babbling will be able to figure out what this particular combination of runes did to Malfoy. Since they are glowing, something must have happened.” He didn’t sound confident.

Potter’s gaze went from Snape to Draco and back again. It was really amazing how your eyes adjusted to the dark, Draco thought, as he watched the warring expressions on Potter’s face. Exasperation won out.

“Why would you do that? Spying on us? Watching us having sex?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Draco wanted to ask but he clamped his lips shut in time. Someone like Potter wouldn’t understand. And it was a shame, really, that he had been caught. Just as his mind was catching up with his heart and he was ready to admit that Potter was way more interesting than he had thought, he had to ruin every little chance he might have had with him.

Not that the odds had been in his favour, anyway. Draco sighed, mentally smacking himself up the head for his own stupidity and carelessness. But deep inside he also felt a sort of giddiness and joy that he’d been in the right place at the right time to witness what he’d just seen. No one would be able to take that from him…unless they Obliviated him. That thought sobered him up instantly.

Eventually Draco realized that Potter was still waiting for an answer and that they were alone in the semidarkness since Snape had wandered back to the fire, probably to put on the rest of his clothes.

Then Draco did something truly spectacular.

He tried it with the truth.

\--

“So you’ve known bits and pieces of what was about to happen since Christmas?” Potter summarized. “And you dug deeper and spied until you knew that we’d be here tonight to perform the ritual?”

Draco shrugged and nodded.

“What were you interested in? Witnessing the magical transfer or watching us fuck?” Potter asked bluntly. Curiously, the anger had mostly vanished from his demeanour by now.

“Both,” Draco admitted. There was no use starting to lie now, was there.

Neither of them said anything after that. They busied themselves playing with sticks and ripping out tufts of grass until Snape called them over.

“All right, Mr Malfoy, what to do with you…” he pondered, rubbing his chin. “I can’t allow you to take back what you’ve seen to the wrong people. That would be a lethal mistake. Altering your mind would be one way to ensure the secrecy of the ritual--”

“No!” Draco yelled. His eyes widened and his wand was in his hand before he had completely processed what Snape had been alluding. 

“It’s not your decision to make,” Snape informed him coldly. “I accepted the burden of having to be the one person who can kill the Dark Lord in order to spare Potter, but I won’t put my life in your hands. Contrary to popular believe I have no death wish.”

“I swear I won’t tell anyone!”

“I wouldn’t have survived as long as I did if I had believed everything I’ve been told over the years,” Snape snarled, annoyed that Draco dared to plead with him.

“But I won’t!” Draco tried again nonetheless. He couldn’t let Snape take his memories, for Merlin’s sake. He’d come out of it hating Potter again…

“Maybe we should postpone the decision until we know what the runes did to Malfoy....?” Potter suggested timidly. Funny how he didn’t hate him for stepping in for someone else when that someone was him, Draco mused.

To Draco’s relief and utmost surprise Snape conceded and once Potter had donned the rest of his clothes and the fire was doused, they made their way back to the castle.

Snape didn’t send them back to their dorms like Draco had expected, though, he ushered them toward the Headmaster’s office where they were already expected despite the late hour.

“Severus, I see you bring another guest?” Dumbledore asked though he didn’t look especially surprised.

Snape growled. “Mr Malfoy saw fit to search us out in the forest and watch the bonding,” he ground out. He ruggedly shoved Draco toward one for the seats facing the Headmaster’s desk and motioned to Potter to take the one beside him. He himself remained standing.

Dumbledore took his seat behind the desk, placed his elbows on the tabletop and rested his chin on his steepled hands. After a short, uncomfortable silence looked at Snape. “Relate.”

And so Snape did just that. Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled like mad when he heard that the bonding had been successful and that Snape indeed was now the one who held the power to rid the world of the Dark Lord. That was until the Potions master came to the part of the second circle of runes.

“What? How could this happen?” Dumbledore demanded to know.

Snape just shook his head. “I can’t say. Maybe they were left over and someone just chucked them aside…and if I find them I’ll make sure they regret it for the rest of their miserable existence. But even so it remains beyond me how they formed into a circle.”

“Harry?” 

“I don’t know, Professor Dumbledore. To be honest I wasn’t really paying attention who placed which stone…” Potter admitted.

“Very unfortunate,” Dumbledore muttered and Draco didn’t know exactly what it was he was referring to, the unknown identity of the person who had unwittingly played fate or that the stones hadn’t been where they should have? But maybe he could help with the mystery of how the circle came into existence, Draco thought, stealthily ignoring the fact that he was going to tell the truth without someone forcing it out of him for the second time tonight.

“Uh, Professors, when I found my perfect observation point I pushed aside everything that was in my way…to all sides. Maybe that is how the circle originated?” 

Silence greeted his admission.

“Mr Malfoy, what you’re trying to say is that you constituted that stone circle yourself? Or at least that it’s highly likely?” Dumbledore clarified. 

Draco nodded meekly.

“Merlin help us…” Snape’s whisper was clearly audible in the silence of the room.

\--

At the crack of dawn the Headmaster of Hogwarts and his Ancient Runes Professor returned to the location of the Beltane fire to examine the second circle and a few hours later, shortly before breakfast, Snape, Potter and Draco were collectively summoned to his study once more.

“Take a seat, boys,” Dumbledore said with his eyes sombre and completely lacking the usual twinkle.

Draco was instantly gripped by panic. Oh Gods, what was he going to hear now? Was he going to die? And what were Potter and Snape doing here?

“Let me be the first to congratulate you all to your successfully formed triad,” Dumbledore announced.

“Huh?” 

“No way!”

“Why do my assumptions always come true?”

“I regret to inform you that it’s true,” Dumbledore said in reply to their collective outbursts. “The runes that were encircling Mr Malfoy match the other circle to that extend. He’s not affected by the transfer of magic, though,” he continued as if that was something joyous. 

As far as Draco was concerned his life was over nonetheless. Bonded? While he was still in school? To his teacher and Potter? Were they supposed to have sex? He sagged back against the backrest of his seat.

His brand new bond mates didn’t seem to fare much better, though. Potter had lost all colour and Snape was seething.

“I’m not going to maintain a sexual relationship to either of them,” he clarified. “I agreed to the bonding because it was the only way to ensure our magic would allow the transfer, but I never agreed to anything beside that.”

Potter looked stricken at Snape’s words and, completely out of character for him, the Professor seemed to sense his sentiment.

“Harry, we discussed this, didn’t we. This is no rejection, I’m merely stating facts. And we both now that you don’t want this, either,” he tried to soothe him. “I’m not regretting last night and I’m not denying that we…” He sighed. “We’re going to have this conversation in private.”

Draco coughed lightly.

“ _What_ , Mr Malfoy?” Snape hissed, obviously blaming him for the mess they found themselves in. Maybe he had a point.

“Albus, is there a way to break this bond?” Snape asked tiredly.

“I’m afraid magic isn’t fooled that easily and the bond you formed is quite permanent,” the Headmaster replied, regret evident in his tone and demeanour. “But you knew that.”

“Yes, I knew that. – Now that there’s another person involved, though, will we still be able to live our lives in peace…and without being forced to give in to any carnal desire?”

“Well, Severus, you and Mr Potter already consummated the relationship, so to speak, but right now I’m unsure what that means for Mr Malfoy.” Dumbledore thought for a moment. “My best guess is that it remains to be seen. I know this is unsatisfactory, but unless one of you--”

“Stop right now!” Snape interrupted him rudely, anger seeping out of every pore.

Draco wanted to cry. He’d spent the last minutes looking from one to the other and the best way to describe what he was feeling was that he was superfluous. No one seemed to care that Dumbledore’s news had come as a quite shock to him and no one had bothered to ask him what he wanted. 

The newfound affection between Potter and their teacher was plainly obvious and, though it was an unusual way to start it, they would probably end up like some kind of family – brothers or maybe even father and son. They had been good together but it had been based on trust and not lust, which Draco could see now. All the times when he’d found Potter near Snape’s office and that day before class they had probably tried to come to terms with what was to come and had managed to come out of it all even stronger…and closer.

But where did that leave him? He certainly didn’t want Snape. Not that way. And he didn’t need another father figure because he still had his own. From what Potter had confirmed, his father had really been the one to procure the book to Snape and it had been out of his own volition. They had a lot to talk about in the upcoming holidays but that didn’t help Draco with the issue at hand.

“Can the bond with Mr Malfoy be broken?” Snape asked, looking pensive. “Our plan doesn’t concern him in the slightest and so it shouldn’t endanger the transfer or reverse it.”

So Snape wanted to get rid of him. Draco sniffed. That was just great. If anything he’d expected _Potter_ to move heaven and hell to break the bond with him but, he glanced at the other teenager, he seemed rather calm. Of course he’d feel better if there weren’t the first signs of pity visible on his face.

“You can stop feeling sorry for me now, Potter,” Draco snapped.

“I could, yes,” the insufferable git replied calmly.

Draco winced. He hadn’t meant to call him names, even though it had only been in his head. He was just so confused, having no idea what he was supposed to think any longer. He wanted answers, damn it. Then the Headmaster cleared his throat and Draco looked at him expectantly.

“We need to look closer at your bond to be sure, of course, but the way I see it now, you can’t break the bond with Mr Malfoy without breaking the one with Harry, Severus. I’m sorry. I’m also not certain if you’re bonded directly to Mr Malfoy or if both of you are bonded to Harry and connected through him. Time will tell us more, I believe.”

Draco exhaled slowly. So maybe he wasn’t bonded to Snape? There was still hope, then, right? The bond between Snape and Potter was settled already and Snape didn’t want Potter as his lover…so that left him and Potter. 

“Why are you grinning like a loon?” Potter cut through his thoughts.

Draco blinked at him.

“Hmm?”

“You look like you’ve just been handed the most precious thing in the world.”

“Oh, maybe I was…” Draco said vaguely.

\--

“Can you believe it’s been a whole year?” Draco asked, idly running his fingers through Harry’s hair.

They were resting face to face on his bed, covered by a thin blanket, and trying to regain their breath after another lovemaking session.

“Time flies,” Harry murmured sleepily.

Draco nodded. “And to think that _He_ has been gone for almost eight months…”

Severus, having used his Death Eater status and subsequent closeness to the monster wisely, had managed to kill the Dark Lord – Voldemort, he corrected himself – in secret. By the time he had been vanished forever, making the bond superfluous, they had arranged themselves with the new situation. 

The strange feeling Draco had that first day, when he’d surprised himself by telling the truth, had been proven correct when they had discovered that he’d adapted to some of Harry’s traits whereas Harry had gotten a few of his own. In all likelihood, they should have objected those side effects but if anything, it brought them closer. 

Seeing something of themselves in the other young man helped them relate to each other. At least that was what Draco told himself. His slight infatuation with Harry that he had harboured over the years had nothing to do with that. And when Harry’s friends informed him that from Harry’s side there had also been a certain fascination beforehand, he dismissed it as nonsense. They were clearly taking advantage of hindsight.

Well, whatever the reason, Draco certainly appreciated the outcome.

“Stop thinking of him,” Harry ordered softly. “If you’re still not tired out we could always go another round.” He yawned before adding, “Soon.”

“Oh…” Draco grinned. Who was he to decline that offer? He reached for Harry, pulling him closer to himself.

“Uh, Draco… I said soon…” Harry complained while the way he snuggled up to Draco negated his words.

“That was at least a minute ago. Soon is now.” He pressed his lips on Harry’s, demanding entrance which was easily granted.

Exploring Harry’s mouth with his tongue, Draco tried to roll them over until he came to lie on his lover. When the blanket hindered their movement, he kicked it aside impatiently. There, much better, he thought, running his hands along Harry’s sides.

A short knock on the door was all the warning they got before said door was opened. Someone cleared their throat.

“I’m here to wish you both a happy anniversary but the way it looks, I could have spared myself the trouble.”

Both heads turned toward the intruder, Draco was the first to speak.

“And a happy anniversary to you, Severus!”

“Happy anniversary, Severus,” Harry said. “Uh, maybe we could come by later on?”

“That would be acceptable,” Severus acquiesced and took his leave, shutting the door behind him. Draco called his wand into his hand and threw every locking charm he could think of at the door.

“So. Where were we?”

“I think you had one hand here and the other there,” Harry started to arrange them accordingly. “And your tongue was down my throat but that’s something you’ve got to do yourself.”

“Your wish is my command.”

\--

THE END


End file.
